Home » Nepal » Not a very good day indeed

Today was not a good day.

It all started early on this Tuesday morning.
As we did our check-out, the girl behind the desk suddenly broke into tears. I was convinced it was because she had a crush on either Bene or me (or both), but Bene insists that it is not necessarily related to my charms. First blow of the day. I am always disappointed if the receptionist does not cry on account of my charms.

We had mentally prepared for a feast of a breakfast at our favourite breakfast place, in the Tibetan quarters. A western breakfast, I am ashamed to say, but if you saw the poor excuses they eat for breakfast, you would understand (mainly, what they describe as congee, I call old rice with a lot of sugary water).

Not a very good day indeed

Degrubenc
2006-08-12 15:12:58

Displayed times (last time: )

hand it back to me. In a mocking American style, I salute them and immediately they all snap at attention and salute me back smartly. What a bunch of "pantins" (look it up in a French dictionary, if you don't know).

After this passport control, I make my way to what I hope is the last security check. I go through with little problem but as I reach the other side, I remember that I left my Nepal Guidebook in my checked-in bag. I leave my small bag at the security counter and ask them to look after it. I rush back to the check-in desk and ask to have my bag back. First answer is always "meo, meo (no, no)" but, after much flashing of my red boarding pass and emphasis on the words diplomatic, embassy and important, they finally go and get it from behind the curtain.

The lock I placed on it to close the bag has disappeared and a number of my things are missing: some books, my inflatable globe and all my medical supplies. I ask where it is gone, no one knows and everyone is innocent.
I want to go behind, to confront the little rascals but am not allowed to. It takes 6 kids in uniform to try to stop me. I go back, furious, to the security counter and, as I approach, I hear the sound of glass shattering. I run back, knock out another kid at the passport control trying to stop me and see that the useless sods manning the security machine had been going through my bag again and dropped a beer glass I bought in Mongolia: a glass of Gengis Beer, the only Mongolian beer, a prized item. I had transported this thing everywhere since Mongolia. I go all red, steam comes out of my ears and I loose it, shouting, insulting, threatening and all sorts of other censured things happen. I demand compensation, apologies, executions, public hangings, etc… I feel like Captain Haddock in one of the Tintin's. All the employees have cowered behind their desks and locked themselves in their offices. The kids from passport control keep their cautious distance, having ...